


Sollux: Have the Best Idea Ever

by cmut (confiscatedretina)



Series: Unsupervised Fun With Aliens [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Bulges and Nooks, M/M, Nookworms, Other, Xeno, nookworm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-27
Updated: 2015-04-27
Packaged: 2018-03-26 00:27:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3830401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/confiscatedretina/pseuds/cmut
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>That is the biggest damn nookworm you have ever seen. That cannot possibly be a real thing. </p><p>Sollux: investigate further.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sollux: Have the Best Idea Ever

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SybLaTortue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SybLaTortue/gifts).



> Once upon a time, [syblatortue](http://syblatortue.tumblr.com/) answered an ask with [a prompt that would not leave me alone](http://syblatortue.tumblr.com/post/96791213381/plus-sized-nookworm-and-sollux-making-the-attempt) and then I wrote a tale of comedy and over sized alien sex toys.

You're pretty sure you aren't seeing what it looks like at the bottom of Karkat's recuperacoon. Taking off your glasses, you squint, and immediately put them back on before a headache can start up. Looking over one shoulder to make sure Karkat's lusus won't lumber into the respite block, you reach a hand into the warm sopor slime. At the touch of your fingers the hulking nookworm moves.

“Shit!” you gasp, yanking the arm out.

The nookworm lumbers out of its tunnel near the recuperacoon's bottom, searching for the body heat that roused it. You stare at the thing, mouth falling open. It looks like some sort of novelty toy, an insult gift you'd get a kismesis or something. Tentatively you reach back into the slime to touch it again. There are little ridges and nubs down its back and sides and a spark goes through your veins at the thought of what those must feel like. They feel pretty good just circling around your wrist and slowly climbing up your arm.

“No. No, thith ith thtupid,” you grumble without moving your arm.

Downstairs you can hear the crab lusus settling himself for sleep. He knows you well enough to have let you in while Karkat's away, but the lumbering beast doesn't have the thinkpan or vocal chords to tell anyone where his charge has gone or when he'll be back. It's late and you're here as per arrangement for an overday gaming session with the only troll who puts up with your shit long enough to let you sleep over. Where ever Karkat is, he's either dead or will be back in an hour or two. There's time to try this behemoth out if you're quick about it.

It takes both hands to hoist the nookworm out of the sopor; it's heavier even than it looks. It chirrs pleasantly in the dry air, vibrating against your skin. A hot blush starts creeping up your neck. Clumsily and one-handed you manage to unzip your pants and kick them off on the way to the comfortably over stuffed, cushioned multipurpose reclining rectangle. One of your bulges is already poking its tip around in your genital concealing garments.

“Alright, whatever dumb name KK'th calling you,” the cushions sag as you drop onto them, “let'th do thith.”

Setting the nookworm down, you slither out of your undergarments and prop one leg against the spinal column rest, the other dangling over the edge. You gently scoot the nookworm closer, one hand coaxing your bulges out further as you lean back and start to sift through a few fantasies in your head. Something warm and thrumming grabs your nook folds, startling you back to reality.

A nervous laugh escapes your squawk blister. “You're pretty down to buthineth, I gueth.”

The nookworm hums and shoves against you. Okay, so no fantasies. You're just going to enjoy this ride for what it is.

Looking down you can see the nookworm pressing its small, rounded cranial segment into you, yellow biological lubricant combining with the sopor to give it a slick sheen. Its warm humming sends a shiver through you and makes most of your natural tension melt away. Soft, nubby gripping digits push at your outer nook folds until the cranial segment slips inside with a rush of euphoria that makes you exhale in giddiness. This is the best idea you've ever had.

Another warm segment slides inside and you feel one of your bulges unsheathe fully. Your fingers brush at the tip of the burgeoning second one and you can already taste the first twinge of orgasmic sweetness on your tongue. It occurs to you that there's no bucket nearby but you're sure, in a distant part of your pan, that you'll have enough time to clean up before Karkat gets home. Resting a couple of fingers between them, you let your bulges writhe around one another languidly.

With one hand between your legs you can feel the next nookworm segment slide in, stretching you in a fantastic way. A staticky buzz starts between your horns, adding a sense of fuzzy imbalance to everything. You run your tongue over your jagged teeth, smiling like an idiot. There's a thick, wet sound and you shudder, back arching; the nookworm is starting to press against your shame globes and you've never felt so deliciously full in your life.

It wiggles deeper and you gasp, sparks darting between your horns. The internal pressure is forcing your bulges out farther than they've ever been. You grasp at the base of one with your free hand, wondering how it will feel to finally be able to rub at the spot where they connect. It doesn't take long before you find out as the nookworm's girth forces your split bulge all the way out. You whimper as fingertips dance along extremely sensitive tissue.

A door slams downstairs and you can just hear the sound of something heavy being dragged around the nutrition block through your aroused haze. Karkat's voice floats to your aural sponges, words indistinct, and the gruff sound of it makes you keen low in your throat with combined dread and want. You are in so much hoofbeast shit if he comes up here. As disappointing as it is to cut short the best sexual experience of your entire life, you'd rather not be mauled by the only friend who trusts you enough to let you into his hive unsupervised.

Sitting up clumsily and swallowing the mouthful of genetic material you've been building up, you reach for the nookworm. It slides in further and you're starting to feel a bit uncomfortable. Wrapping your hands around the thing you can feel that it still has several more widening segments to go before tapering off. Your bloodpusher falters a little. This has been really great and all but your nook has its limits and so do your shame globes; they're starting to feel a little cramped. Biological lubricant is dribbling down your bulges in enough quantity to leave a mustard yellow puddle around the nookworm. You hope these cushions are stain resilient, or at least relatively unstained on their undersides.

Pain sparks between your legs and you let out a strangled hiss. It's enough to make your anxiety flare up, which does nothing to help you pull the nookworm out as your muscles clench. You can feel its thrumming in your thighs, which is nice, but the pleasure is contrasting poorly with one squashed shame globe and a burgeoning panic attack. You try and yank on the worm and, not only do your fingers slip, the fucking thing slides further into you and there is no threat of a friendly mauling that can hold in your panicked yelp.

The voice grumbling in the nutrition block stops and you can hear the faint sounds of a crab monster tearing into freshly killed meat. You catch a few shouted complaints about Karkat's lusus not telling him company was over before footsteps come thundering up the stairs. The respite block door bangs open to reveal Karkat ready to yell some sort of greeting the instant before his skin turns a sickly pale gray color.

“Um,” you wheeze, hands still wrapped around the nookworm. “I can eckthplain?”

“I really don't want to fucking know,” he says in his own version of a wheeze, which is more akin to the normal speaking voice of any other troll. He leans against the door frame, casual save for the tenseness radiating off him. “So... How have you been?”

“Oh, pretty good,” you force yourself to sound calm, which fails miserably when the nookworm gets enough purchase to burrow into you further, bringing tears to your gander bulbs. “Nuh-nothing much g-going on lately.”

You're shaking now, teeth digging into your bottom lip. In the sad history of a lifetime full of bad ideas that you've had, this is definitely the worst one. This damn sex toy is going to split you in half right here and it's going to be the dumbest way any troll on Alternian soil has ever been culled. Karkat is glaring at you from the door, arms crossed and skin so drained of color he could almost pass for a rainbow drinker.

“I can't feel my shame globeth,” you croak.

“God! Fuck!”

All pretense dropped, Karkat is between your legs before you can draw in another shaky breath, sweeping your hands aside to hold the nookworm in one palm and your flailing bulges in the other. His touch is firm but unexpectedly gentle and you aren't sure now if your shortness of breath is entirely from the too-full, painful feeling in your completely stuffed nook. Yellow dribbles down Karkat's hand and he keeps his face down. You can just see his cheeks blushing at this angle and the sight is muddling your pan. The endorphins and hormones must be getting to you because you sure as fuck aren't thinking about what he is looking at. Really, you're not and your toes curl with how hard you are refusing to think about where his face is currently located.

"What festering, drooling excuse for a thought crawled through your pan," Karkat snarls, tickling the worm's back ridges, "that made you think it was a reasonable, good idea to shove someone's very personal belonging up your nook?!"

"I...hhh...th-thought it...w-wathn't real," you manage as one segment backs out of your nook with a wet sound that sends a shiver down your spinal column. "Huh-who even keepth thomething that big in a 'coon? Where do you even thleep, KK?!"

He growls and yanks on the nookworm with about as much force as that comment deserves. You can't stop the yelp/moan combo from escaping your throat as he drags it out in one quick move. Your nook throbs and sparks dart between your horns, your mouth filling with sweet-tasting genetic material and your body shuddering. You have just enough kinesthetic sense left to jerk your head sideways, gasping, as the world turns to euphoric static and every sense is short circuited. 

"You're cleaning that up when you can stand," Karkat grumbles.

As your vision comes back, you see him holding the nookworm to his upper thorax like a lusus holds a wiggler, scowling and blushing, shirt stained the same mustard hue as the undignified puddle you've left on his reclining rectangle. There's a splattering of amber drops by his feet. It's unavoidable: you laugh until the pain twinging between your legs makes you gasp.

"Shure, KK, shure." You sink into the cushions. "I can't believe that'th a real nookworm. Nobody can handle that monthter."

Awkward silence stretches between you. Karkat's fingers tap the nookworm and he turns away hurriedly to set his cargo back in the recuperacoon.

"No way," you stare at him.

Karkat is busying himself with the sopor but you hear him mumble, "It took some practice."

"Bullshit, KK!" you snap in lieu of admitting just how impressed you are. "Prove it!"

He stomps toward you with a handful of antiseptic slime, glaring at the floor. Still not meeting your gaze, he shoves your knee aside with one shoulder and begins to slather your gaping nook with sopor. It stings worse than any bee and you hiss, teeth bared and shoulders curling into a defensive hunch. Karkat growls back and very tenderly slides his green-coated fingers inside you. If it didn't burn like the longest day of the sweep this would probably be the second-best sexual experience of your life. Your pan is getting whiplash from the fighting instincts burning your blood and the flushed hormones scalding your nerves.

“Well?” you pant when he stands back up.

“'Well' what?” his voice is muffled by the stained shirt being dragged over his head.

“Are you going to make a nookworm dithappear or not?”

Karkat stomps around a bit more before turning back to you. The monstrosity is cradled against his bare thorax, glistening and dripping green, when he shoves your legs aside to make room on the rectangle. A bucket you hadn't noticed before clangs down beside him. Now he meets your gaze and his look is a strange mix of defiance, shyness, and awkward arousal. It's the most adorable thing you've ever seen.

“Do you actually want to see my grotesque secondary sexual characteristics, Captor?”

Your cheeks burn gold and you swallow the tang of renewed sweetness in favor of slightly too casual, “Fuck yeth.”

Karkat huffs as if you've just handed him over for culling and unzips his pants. You can see what looks to be an impressively sized bulge trying to escape his sign-printed undergarments. He takes a deep breath, eyes closed, and slides the obscuring cloth down his hips with a thumb. Your fingers twitch in a stifled urge to just pull everything off him. In the end, he does what you did, placing the nookworm between his legs so he can shuck off his clothes. Behind your glasses, your gander bulbs are open as wide as they can go.

Leaning back, Karkat takes a deep breath and nudges the nookworm toward a nook that is already slick and eagerly opening. It slides two segments inside without hesitation and you feel yourself beginning to mimic Karkat's slow, relaxing breaths. His bulge sways hypnotically, rising, elongating, and you are slowly leaning toward it as your own nook pulses with arousal. You grimace at the immediate pain without a sound.

With a start you look away from Karkat's bulge and realize that he's already got the nookworm as deep inside himself as you had managed. The only sound he makes is a soft, low sigh. You're afraid to make the slightest noise but your hands are already cupping your bulges. Karkat grimaces, tongue running slowly over sharp teeth, as the nookworm delves deeper. The tiniest drop of red pools at the corner of his mouth.

“KK?” you whisper.

“Mmm?”

“Can I...uh...”

“Yeah.”

You lean forward, his bulge catching on your shirt, and press your mouth to his. The taste is heady, full of pheromones and that distinct flavor you know is him. You catch his tongue in the fork of your own as it slides into your mouth, languid and hot. His teeth prick against your lower lip and you choke on a whimper, trying to stay quiet for his sake. A hand stronger than you expected digs through your hair, fingers wrapping around the base of one horn. You muffle a pleased growl and reach for his horns in return, smearing yellow stickiness in his hair. Karkat's eyes crack open and you can see he's feeling as good and as out of it as you were a few minutes ago. 

The soft, wet noises between his legs make you draw back reluctantly. Looking down, you can see his nook stretched wide, almost all of the nookworm inside it. Viscous red is trickling down the cushions onto the floor. A shudder passes through you and sparks drift past your eyes.

“Fuck,” you whisper like it's some sort of benediction.

He smiles at you, lazy and sated, a mix of crimson and amber dotting his chin. Seeing him spread out like this, so relaxed and calm, tiny streaks of yellow on his face, his thighs... You arch back, shivering, but manage to hit the bucket just before your senses faze out again.

“Holy shit, KK,” you rasp when you can talk again, slumped over his prone body.

“Told you,” he's such a smug piece of shit about this.

A wicked grin spreads over your face. There's only one thing that makes a full nook better.

Without warning you grab his bulge in both hands. He groans, instinctively reaching up, but you pin his hands with your psionics. You bend down to trail your tongue over that exposed red tip between your fingers and he convulses under you. It won't fit in your nook right now but there are other places it can go. Carefully you take him into your mouth, holding him as steady as you can. You'll save the biting for another time.

“Oh, fuck. Shit, fuck,” he pants, claws digging at the cushions.

It's nice to know you've found something that breaks Karkat's speech centers so effectively. His string of unimaginative epithets peters off into a cluster of ragged sound that makes your mouth water. You drip yellow saliva down the length of him, the color mingling with the mess between his legs. Looking up, you see his thorax heaving, eyes wide and unfocused as he quivers beneath you. A needy whimper claws its way out of Karkat's squawk blister and you're tempted to leave him like this but decide to play it red for now.

When you release your psionics he jerks to the side, bright red arcing into the bucket. He spasms again and then a third time, body taught. You let his shivering bulge slide out of your mouth, all your own motor control frozen as you watch him pail until he's half hanging off the reclining rectangle.

Minutes seem to drag by as Karkat pants and twitches his way back to sentient thought halfway between your legs. It takes both of you to get him back onto the cushions. While he breathes, eyes shut, a hand draped over his thorax, you peer at the nookworm nestled between his thighs. It's almost completely hidden and you are going to be thinking about this a lot for a long time. You're simultaneously impressed and jealous.

“You've got to teach me that trick thometime,” you say into the silence.

Karkat makes a weird, high-pitched snort sound. When you realize it's a laugh, the first one you've ever heard from him in all the sweeps of your acquaintanceship, it makes you a little uneasy. You're not used to seeing this mess of nerves and fury so relaxed, so...content. It'll take some getting used to but you think you might like it. A little happiness suits this asshole.

After a few more minutes you realize that he's falling asleep and nudge Karkat in one of his partially absorbed grub legs.

“Dothe it come out?”

“Mmm, when it wants to,” he mumbles. “You can have my 'coon when you're tired.”

That's the last you get out of him before he starts to snore quietly. So much for a day of gaming.

You hobble around Karkat's room, closing the thick solar blocking planks and kicking clothes into shabby piles. For a moment you consider messing with his computer but, after all that, you don't really feel like screwing with his pan. A twinge from your abused nook informs you that you don't really want to sit down anyway.

Tiredness seeps into your limbs eventually and you slough out of your sticky, red splattered shirt. Before you climb into Karkat's recuperacoon you shamble into the hallway and dig a flexible soft comfort oblong out of the closet by the ablutions block. As you drape it over Karkat's prone body you catch a last glimpse of the nookworm. Your bulge twitches as you tuck the oblong into the cushion cracks around a troll who probably won't wake up until midnight.

Sliding carefully into the warm sopor, you decide maybe you'll stay up just a little longer. To think.

**Author's Note:**

> Now that you've read the book, see the movie! I mean [see the hilariously perfect art](http://syblatortue.tumblr.com/post/117445462251/sixth-collab-pron-with-magic-retina-and-ficlet) by Syblatortue and the original snippet I sent that inspired it!
> 
> Bonus: the details of troll sex as imagined by a crazy person (aka, me).
> 
> There is very little difference between male and female trolls physically at this point in the species' evolution and it's relegated the body parts we would consider to be sex organs (the nook and bulge) to secondary sexual characteristics that aren't even needed to keep the species going. The genetic material is a very specific mix of body chemicals produced in a troll's mouth when they're doing certain things (sloppy makeouts :D) and especially when an Imperial drone comes to call. The bulge/nook can be used to stimulate genetic material production, but it's not the fastest way (and only works for matespritships and kismesisitutdes). Thankfully for the species, trolls are sensitive to pheromone and hormone production in other trolls, which is all it takes in the right situation to get some genetic material into a pail. Each individual troll doesn't produce much material, but given that drones are collecting from the entire species, there's always more than enough for a viable population of mother grubs. This is also how trolls not in any quadrants keep from being culled; that particular genetic material will have more adrenaline compounds to it, but the contributing individual gets to live and add to species diversity next drone season.
> 
> (I'm just an armchair science fan and this is entirely a mix of what knowledge I have and the sci-fi/fantasy setting of the comic. My actual headcanon for troll reproduction is that they don't have genitals at all and basically just sneeze/spit into a bucket because it's ridiculous yet logical and seems like the kind of simple/cracky BS Hussie would appreciate. :D Making it work with fandom's favorite alien genitals theory was just a fun bonus challenge for me that I hope y'all enjoyed. :) )


End file.
